Stone Cold Crazy
by dynamitewithalaserbeam
Summary: This is most of WWRY with Gaz's scattered thoughts, some chapters have is point of view. A few twists, one major twist unless I decide to write a seperate fic for that one, but the plot is still the same. My first fic, enjoy! Rated for language.
1. Chapter 1

**This is more or less the whole play of WWRY with a few twists and Gaz's scattered thoughts. Praise, criticism, corrections--whatever, they're all welcome. This is my first fic, enjoy!**

**The usual "don't own it" speech goes here. Names, song lyrics, and basic story lines belong to Freddie Mercury, Brian May, Roger Taylor, John Deacon, and Ben Elton. The odd Beatles or Greenday or--well, pretty much anyone's quote could be here, too. Nothing really belongs to me; I'll just say that.**

**Note: I know that this one is short, I'm writing another part to it on my other computer and it would be WAY too long to have it together, and awkward if I separated them.**

I'm Going Slightly Mad

_I've seen every blue-eyed floozy on the way._

Galileo was dreaming again. There was the same man as the other nights, singing these words, and more. But Galileo never remembered more than one line from a dream, except once, the line that repeated itself over and over again. Something about going to where the champions played, the place of living rock...a bright, bright star will lead the way. Where did the champions play? Who WERE these "champions"? What's this star thing about? And just WHAT was living rock?

These were the things that Galileo thought about every day. _When the fire starts to burn it drives you more than half-crazy._ There it was again; a random phrase, following some sort of rhythm. With a pounding heart, Galileo woke up from his dream.

"Bloody hell," he said to himself. _Just when I think I'm done with those dreams they come back again. Oh well, might as well get up for another great day at the clone zone._

Getting up, Galileo noticed he was late. _Barely enough time to drag a comb across my head_, he thought as he ran out of his house. Running out, he literally ran into some weird-looking girl. With a "Piss off" and the vilest glare you could imagine--well, no, you couldn't possibly imagine such a thing--she was off, leaving Galileo to stare at her retreating back. _You don't waste no time at all._

The girl certainly wasn't a Gaga girl--it just wasn't possible. She wore only what Galileo could describe as a torn up bed sheet, army boots, and some sort of jumper, all of which were black. Her eyes had black all around them, with framing spiky black eyelashes. Her hair was purple and tied up in knots. The laptop bag she carried was black with rips on it. It kind of looked like someone had tried to half-heartedly sew the rips up with red thread.

_Scaramouche,_ he thought, remembering a past dream. The words came back: _Scaramouche, Scaramouche, will you do the Fandango? _"Shut up!" he said to the voice in his head, before it could get any worse. He decided to follow her.


	2. Chapter 2

Okay, I twisted around a few things to get this one out—I can't predict how long the next chapters will be, but it'll be the complete play, I swear!

Can Anybody Find Me?

The girl, or how Galileo thought of her, Scaramouche, was surprisingly a lot like Galileo. Well, for the fact that she didn't really have any friends. Galileo saw that about two minutes after she stepped into the Virtual High School courtyard.

"Check out the loner, girls," came the annoying tinny voice of a Gaga girl.

"Ewww...that outfit wouldn't even be in style before Globalsoft!" said another.

"Can't you afford any _decent_ downloads?"

"You are such a sa-ad loner...you're never going to get with a boy from the BoyZone."

"Oh my, oh my, oh my," said Scaramouche in a perfect imitation of Commander Khashoggi. "I'll never be lucky enough to be a slut with a clone. How sad."

With this, Scaramouche swept past the Gaga's without a flinch into a classroom (unless you consider a glare to be a flinch). Galileo slowly walked to his homeroom, too deep in thought to pay attention to the taunts aimed mercilessly at him. _I'm not the only one who doesn't fit in..._ Scaramouche was all he could think about that day, and it was no exception when he was walking down the steps leading out of VHS at the end of the day.

He was so lost in thought he didn't notice Scaramouche and the Gaga's at first. Then he heard what sounded like a line from a song. Not a Gaga song. A real song. "Find me somebody to love...find me, find me, love." When he looked over, he saw Scaramouche singing and Commander Khashoggi coming up behind her. He couldn't hear what was happening, so he went a little closet.

"Globalsoft equals fascism!" was the cry from Scaramouche as she was dragged away.

Galileo had a verse come into his head, and started to sing...

"_I beg to dream and differ from your hollow lies..."_

That was as far as he got before he was knocked out and dragged to—well, who knows?


	3. Chapter 3

**Alright, I re-wrote parts of this so that it could be a shorter chapter instead of five altogether. Enjoy!**

I Want To Break Free

Sometime later--Galileo couldn't be too sure how many days, hours, weeks it was--Galileo woke up in what seemed to be some sort of hospital room. There were at least ten other beds. He noticed movement on one and went to go see who it was.

"What the fuck," was the response from the girl, who happened to be Scaramouche, when she saw Galileo two feet away from her face.

"H-h-hi, G-g-gaga girl," _Oh, nice, real smooth Galileo._

"I ain't no g-g-g-g-g-gaga girl, and I don't happen to appreciate people in my face!" came the defensive reply. "Who're you?"

"I'm—well, I don't really know who I am," answered Galileo. _Ditto._

"Gee, that must make things a little difficult."

"But I know what my name is, at least." _Yeah, like she really thought you didn't know your own name._

"And what's that?"

"Galileo Figaro," he said proudly.

She raised her eyebrows. "Nice name."

_What? Someone actually likes my name? _ "Why thank you!"

"You CANNOT believe I was being serious. Mind if I shorten it?" Galileo's face fell. _Shorten it? How could you shorten it? Galileo doesn't go without Figaro, and Figaro doesn't go without Galileo! You should be happy that I just let you call me Galil—_

"So, Gazza, how did you get here?" _Gazza? GAZZA!_

"I um, hear voices in my head. Songs, like. A bunch of random words that follow a tune. I'm—well, I guess I'm mad." _ There is no way, no HOW that she is going to get away with calling me Gazza. _"How about you?"

Scaramouche looked at the floor. "They think I'm gonna be a rebel, 'cos" she looked up and towards the door, "SOME PEOPLE DON'T LIKE THE WAY I DRESS!"

"I think that you dress beautifully," _Okay, that maybe wasn't the right thing to say..._

"Thanks…" Scara noticed the bandages on her head. "What do you think they did to us?"

"I don't know."

"Do you know anything?" she was starting to get annoyed.

"Well…umm…I know that I'm d-different," came the stuttered respond. _Geez, right when you think you lose your stutter…_

"I'm different too. The Gaga girls hate me," said Scaramouche, looking, once again, at the floor.

"The BoyZone clones hate me. Do you know why they hate you?" asked Gazz, trying to get through her shell.

"Sure. They think I'm a lesbian 'cos I don't wear pastels," shrugged Scara.

"No, that's not why…" _Great, Galileo…talk yourself into a corner, why don't you? _"They hate you because…because you're an individual! They're scared of you—"

She cut him off. "That's enough false cheer for today, Gazz. So, ever think that maybe we should get out of here, oh I don't know, BEFORE anyone comes back?"

_Why didn't I think of that? _"Yeah…but wh-where would we go? Back home? We'd just get arrested again, and brought back, and tortured." _Pretty good cover, if I do say so myself!_

Scara grinned. "Ever hear of the rebels?"


	4. Chapter 4

Just Gotta Get Out

A puzzled look took over Gazz's face. "I thought you were pissed 'cos you were arrested for being a 'potential rebel'?"

Scara's grin got wider. "Nah, I was just pissed for getting arrested. So, how about we get out?"

_Just gotta get out, just gotta get right outta here..._"Yeah, sure, s-sounds good...But how are we gonna escape?"

"Oh, I thought we'd ask Khashoggi real politely if he would let us go and join the rebels," Scaramouche glared. "What do you THINK, Gazz?...come on, help me find an open window..."

_Oh, sure...everything is always your great idea. You're the reason I got arrested anyway._

After about five minutes of looking (not to mention avoiding Scara), Galileo found a window that wasn't locked. "Hey, over here...we should be able to fit through this one." _ All of us except your mouth._

Scaramouche walked towards the window. "You first, I need something soft to land on." _Excuse me?_

"Women and children first," retorted Gazz, trying to push her out. Finally she twisted free and jumped on her own, with Gazz falling after.

"OW! God dammit, Gazz, can't you aim?" Scara rolled out from under him.

"Um no, not really." _Okay, maybe I could've said something better there._

Instead of glaring, Scaramouche actually laughed. "Come on, we gotta get away before they notice we're gone."

"My God, Scaramouche, did you just say something WITHOUT sarcasm?"

Scaramouche stopped dead on time. "Who the hell is Scaramouche?" _Oh shit._

Blushing, Gazz shrugged. "I don't know, it's from one of my dreams and I thought it would suit you."

"People will call me Scary Bush."

"No, they won't. Besides, it's better than the other names that I've dreamed."

"Oh really? And what would those names be?" Although she wouldn't admit it, Scaramouche was actually starting to like the name. _Hell, it's better than "Samantha",_ she thought to herself.

"Long Tall Sally, Honky Tonk Woman, Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds, and Fat Bottomed Girl," Gazz stopped before he could say any others. _Maybe I shouldn't have mentioned the last one...oh well, it'll make her like "Scaramouche" better._

"Are you tryin' to tell me something?" _I knew it._

"What? No..."

"You better not be...Fine. I'll keep Scaramouche," she paused. "But if someone calls me 'Scary Bush' I'll kill ya."

Scaramouche went nearer to Gazz. Her, being shorter, looked up as he looked down. _What the hell is she doing?_ Abandoning the question (quite happily, I must say), he opened his eyes to see what was going on when he saw her grinning like a Cheshire cat, two inches away from his face. Her eyes, which weren't closed at all, started to droop downwards. Just as they were going to make "contact", the sound of a siren came blaring through all the streets.

"Damn--I-I mean, m-maybe we should go and continue later?" _Idiot, idiot, idiot! Don't wanna be an American Idiot..._

"Best offer I've had all week," Scara rolled her eyes.

Another voice came from behind a parked van. "Let's get 'em!"


	5. Chapter 5

**For the record, I can't remember what Brit and Meat were wearing, or exactly what was said, so I made it up (well okay, that's what you're supposed to do...I'm getting stupid in my old age...smacks self on head)**

**Sorry if this looks "patched together"--the bloody power supply keeps going out. Which means every paragraph is about 5 minutes apart, totally ruining some of my ideas. Not to mention deleting a bunch of stuff. Oh well. On with the show.**

Mamma, ooh...

Gazz and Scara whirled around to see what the hell was happening. They expected to see the SPs or Commander Khashoggi. Instead they saw...well, the exact opposite.

Lurching towards them was a girl and some guy. Both were extremely weird looking, which made it obvious that they were no gaga clones. The girl, who was holding on to Scaramouche, was dressed in the tightest leather pants Galileo had ever seen. She had on a dark red and black corset, with dark red hair to match. She was heavily made up, and looked like she hadn't slept for days.

"Quick bitch," she started. "Where did your boyfriend get the words?"

Scara, who was pressed against a van, was taken aback. "What words? And what boyfriend?"

Then it was time for the man to speak up. Looking equally as weird, with a leather jacket and torn jeans. His hair was short and black, messy and spiked. He had Gazz penned down to the ground.

"The words, man! The words from the past. He calls you Scaramouche. Long Tall Sally, Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds, Honky Tonk Woman, Fat Bottomed Girls--they're all from the past, dude! You're both spies, breaking into the Heartbreak and stealing the scripts--"

He was interrupted by Scara. "First of all, I have no bloody idea what you're talking about. What _are_ these 'scripts' and 'texts' and what's this 'Heartbreak' thing about?"

The girl took over. "That's not important. What's important is how does _he_ know the words?" She was pointing at Gazz, who hadn't spoken at all since they showed up.

With everyone looking at him, waiting for an answer, it crossed his mind that he should say something. "What's so special about the words? They just pop in to my head, it's not like they're some sort of secret or something..." he stopped. If the words weren't some sort of secret, why would these odd people be questioning them? He continued in a smaller voice. "Is it?"

Not exactly responding to his question, the guy started to speak slowly. "You mean you just hear these things...in your head?"

"Yeah..." _Didn't I say that already?_

"And you don't know where they come from or what they mean...who are you, anyways?" His grip on Galileo was starting to get weaker.

"Why does everyone keep asking that? I don't know who I am! I am the walrus. This is major Tom to ground control. Can you hear the drums, Fernando? I am the Dancing Queen--ummmmph!" The man put covered his mouth with his hand before they could be overheard.

Walking over to the woman, he said in an excited whisper "He's the one! He's the Dreamer that we've been looking for all these years!"

She cut in. "Are yah sure Brit?" _At least I know his name now._ "Any clever little bugger coulda' found his way to the Heartbreak and see the scripts."

"Meat, of course it's him. We guard those scripts with our lives. Besides, he has no bloody idea what we're talking about. C'mon, I'll test him right now."

_Test me?_ Galileo was thinking._ That certainly doesn't sound good. What are they testing me _for_ anyways? Am I diseased? Are--_

"Hey, you, get over here," Brit was calling to Gazz. "And your chick, too."

Scaramouche, who had been quiet for WAY too long was, well, not ecstatic at being called that. "I'm sorry, his _what_? His chick? What am I know, poultry?"

Meat and Brit looked at her strangely but turned back to Galileo. Brit started with some karate moves, and then started to sing.

_Mamma, just killed a man,_

_Put a gun against his head,_

_Pulled my trigger now he's dead._

_Mamma, life had just begun..._

He stopped and pointed to Galileo. _Might as well..._He joined in.

_But now I've gone and thrown it all away._

Brit turned to Meat, more excited still. "You see? He's the one! I knew we'd find him someday!" He turned back to Galileo. "Come with us. We need you."

"Not her," said Meat, pointing at Scaramouche. "We don't need her."

_Excuse me? What about what we were in the middle of before you guys attacked us?_ Galileo for once stood up for something. "I'm not going without Scaramouche," he not-so-boldly stated. Actually, it was more of a question than a statement, truth be told.

"Fine, nothing really matters to me. Both of you can come then, come on," Brit turned to walk back.

"Wait!" Scara, who had, once again, been too quiet for too long. "Who are you guys anyway?"

Brit turned around, a grin on his face. "The last hope, baby."

**Note: All thoughts are Gazz's unless it says otherwise (just because I can't go on with absolutely NONE of Scaramouche's thoughts). Sorry if it confused people before.**


	6. Chapter 6

**I'll say this twice: This chapter is in Gazz's point of view. A little hard for me to write since I don't really have anything in common with Gazz.**

I've Fallen In Love

(Galileo's POV)

Those weird people who attacked us--Meat and Brit--were leading Scaramouche and I through some sort of wasteland. About ten minutes later, we came across some van. Meat crawled under it first and disappeared through a hole, after taking a pile of rubbish off first. Brit waved us in.

"Get in, will ya? Any minute now Khashoggi and his narrow-minded cronies could be comin' after us..." _With your narrow minded cronies who are fools on the first division..._

God I hate those voices.

Passing me another trademark Scaramouche look, she jumped down the hole after Meat. Wow. I never realized what a great face she had...or other body features...

"Will ya get in already?" Brit's voice took me away from my wondering mind. Feeling I had nothing to lose, I jumped in and promptly landed on some_thing_ (padding), and some_one_.

"Bloody hell, Gazz, are you TRYIN' to land on me or something?" Oops. Scaramouche again.

"No...I told you I can't aim already!" Not that I minded landing on her. Hell, maybe that _is_ good aim.

"I've noticed!"

After that line, Brit came down the hole. Since Scara kept me too busy fighting I hadn't thought to move off the bed. Brit, having better aim, just missed landing on me but the force of his landing threw me off the bed, and wouldn't you just KNOW that I landed at Scaramouche's feet?

"Don't worry Gazza," Scaramouche was smirking. "You're not the first guy to fall hopelessly at my feet."

I could feel myself blushing. Maybe she didn't know what I was thinking before the hole, or when we almost kissed (_I_ didn't even know what I was thinking then), and just said that when she had the opportunity--but damn, she was right. I admit it: I'M FALLING FOR HER!

_I've fallen in love for the first time, this time I know it's for real...I've fallen in lov--_Shut. Up.

During all this, Brit winked a quick "Sorry 'bout that," and walked over to Meat, with a sly look on his face. Looking over there now, I saw them in a long embrace. Scaramouche was looking over there too, and shivered.

"You okay?" Just watch her catch pneumonia and die. Why do these things always happen to me?--Oh wait, they don't.

"Yeah, jus' a little cold," she sniffled. She had this weird look on her face--much different from the smirking one. No, not a glare either. She looked...lonely?

I certainly didn't feel cold, but seeing nothing else to do, put my arm around her. Okay, well I'm making it sound like that was my idea. I don't know, my arm moved itself over there! No way I was moving it though...

She looked up at me with a smile. Not a huge smile, like that first time. Had almost a--God forbid--shy look to it. "Thanks Gazz."

Oh. My. God. Did she just move closer to me? Hold on, there's something around my waste--_her_ _arm? _Bloody hell.

We were walking beside Meat and Brit, who had managed to tear themselves away from each other a little while ago. It had been quiet--what, five minutes? I didn't care. I had Scaramouche. I could keep walking like this for the rest of my life. God I love her.

"So, how much longer to we have to go?" Scaramouche looked like she was getting tired from those huge boots. I would carry her if she'd ask.

"About twenty minutes, depending on what we find, hen," Meat sounded a lot different when she didn't think that you were some sort of spy. Cheery, almost.

"What do you mean, 'on what we find'?" I was getting a little more interested now, and, for a split second, wasn't thinking about Scaramouche. How dare I.

"We're rebels, right? We're trying to bring back _real_ music, but we need instruments. Since Globalsoft," Brit spat in the dust, "Since they destroyed all of the instruments, we had to make our own," he shrugged as if to say, "what else can we do?".

"Well it's not _our_ fault, though," said Meat, like a child with his hand caught in a cookie jar. "If Globalsoft," she spat, "allowed instruments we wouldn't have to rebel. We're just fighting for what's right!"

With this, we came to what I thought was a sharp turn. There were lots of those. Although the tunnel kept going, Meat and Brit started feeling along the wall. I'm guessing a secret passage? A knob? Whatever. Anyways, they found it.

"Welcome to the Heartbreak Hotel," Meat bent over and kissed Scara on the cheek. _Not_ cool. That's my job. At least, it _should_ be.

Once we got there, Meat took Scaramouche away from me saying something about a makeover. I thought she looked great the way she was, but _maybe_ she could do without the boots. And the bed sheet. Or at least the jumper. Okay, so she could use a few tips.

Brit took me away from my thoughts, once again. He brought me over to another rebel--or Bohemian, that's the word I've heard around here--who gave me some sort of look-over.

"So, you're the Dreamer, huh?" The Bohemian was talking to me now. Around then I heard something about a corset and a leather skirt.

"I-um, I guess so...that's what he's been calling me," I pointed to Brit. "But what's this whole 'Dreamer' thing about?"

Before I got my answer, I heard a series of wolf whistles and "you-look-greats". Looking to see what all the commotion was, I saw Scaramouche coming out of some room. She was wearing a red and black corset, a short leather skirt, and the same boots that all of the other women Bohemians were wearing. She looked bloody terrific. I let my eyes roam all over her--damn, she'll think I'm a Khashoggi double now--I guess I was staring a tad.

"Well...what do you think, Gazza?" She was looking at me.

"Rock n' rollllllllllll!" I heard various people calling that out.

"I agree, you look totally rock n' roll, Scara...but what _is_ rock n' roll?" I looked over to Brit.

"Gazza, baby, rock n' roll is anything you want it to be."

Answers came from random Bohemians.

"It's sex."

"It's style."

"It's rebellion."

"It's freedom."

"It's--"

"Yeah, that's nice, but what IS it?" This was starting to get annoying.

"Oh, umm...we don't really know. All we know is that there was a day when rock n' roll died. Rock n' roll was a type of music--REAL music, not Computer Recorded whatever. Millions of kids were in garage bands, most never got anything out of it. The artists didn't do it for the money. They did it for a crazy little thing called love. Actually, that's where most of us got our names from." It was pretty obvious Brit had given this speech a few times before. The Bohemians started to introduce themselves.

"Buddy Holly."

"Charlotte Friggin' Church."

"Madonna."

"Billie Joe."

"Bono."

"Mick Jagger."

"And I am Sir Paul McCartney. But you can call me Big Macca," that was from the Bohemian that I was talking to earlier. I'm guessing he's the leader or something.

Brit cut them off. "Now, this is about where you come in. Most of the music has been destroyed. But there's a legend, about a man--or woman--who'd remember them. The words, the rhythms, all of it. We think you're him. Just remember, Galileo. Rock n' roll isn't about the fame or the fortune. You do it for your baby. For the crazy little thing called love." With that, him and Meat started to sing a song about a crazy little thing called love. Scaramouche and I added in a few lines, the Bohemians added in some chorus lines. Sounded like it was straight out of a musical.

"Oh yeah, indeed!" That voice was all too familiar. The person--no, the pervert--who was mocking the end of the song was standing in the doorway with other SPs. Khashoggi. That pig. He trapped the Bohemians in a lager cage, somehow missing me and Scaramouche.

"You'll never get the Dreamer while I'm alive!" Out of sheer endurance, Brit broke free of the laser cage, creating a distraction for the guards. "Galileo, Scaramouche, the power of living rock is in your hands--run!" Scaramouche was in shock. She wasn't moving. I grabbed her arm and ran down the tunnels, hearing guns firing. Hearing Brit fall dead.


	7. Chapter 7

**Note: This is back to the third person (not in Gazz's POV anymore). But it still has scattered Gazz-like thoughts in **_italic_

**I still don't own WWRY, any of the characters, or song lyrics/quotes.**

And There's Nothing You Can Do About It

Hand in hand, Gazz was leading Scaramouche out of the tunnel, away from the captured Bohemians. Away from Khashoggi. Away from the SPs. Away from the Gaga world--away from everything.

They were running through the tunnels at an alarming pace. Scaramouche had gotten over the initial shock, and was half running, half being dragged. Galileo was leading, but he had no idea where the tunnels were taking him, and what they were going to do when there was no more tunnel to run in. The latter had to be found out soon, as they could see rays of sunlight at the end of the tunnel.

_Like a sunshine ray through a crack in the shutter, or the sight of a light at the end of a tunnel--fine time for voices to be going through my head._

"Gazza, look, a van!" Scara was pointing out of the tunnel, where, sure enough, there was an old van that seemed to be waiting for them. It was in some sort of forest, or maybe a jungle. Gazz didn't remember any forests or jungles around town, so he figured that they had been running quite a while. It wasn't until they had stopped that he felt the pain in his lungs and throat, or the aching in his legs.

"Well I guess we should stay here a bit. Rest up. But what are we supposed to do that? All of the other Bohemians are _dead_, Scara. Britney Spears died to save us. How did the pig find us, anyway?" Unconsciously having taken his hand away from Scaramouche's, Galileo's fists clenched with anger, having thought of these things, and more. He got louder. "And how are we supposed to bring back rock on our own? All I know is that I hear voices in my head that are supposedly words of the past--but what are--"

Scaramouche cut him off. "The hospital!" _And I thought _I_ was mad._ She kept going, despite the blank stare from Gazz. "When they operated on our heads, Gazza. They must've put in some sort of locator chip," she started to look through his hair, on the back of his head. _Feels like the lice checks we used to have in Virtual School,_ he was thinking.

"I found something here," she said, keeping one finger on a spot on the back of his upper neck. Reaching towards the van, she took a piece of broken glass and brought it towards that spot. Seeing what she was about to do, he had to stop her.

"Wait! Do you really think we should do this? I mean, we could outrun pigs. I could carry you and run at the same time if you were tired and--" He was cut off again.

"Gazz, I do NOT need you to carry me," Scaramouche gave him a Look. _Someday I'll find the right words to describe that, that..._thing_ that she does to screw up her face._ "And if we don't take these out they'll catch us in a few hours. We need to rest, whether you think so or not."

With this, she expertly cut into his skin, removing a small chip, completely flat, about one square centimetre. He gasped in pain, then inwardly kicked himself for sounding like such a wuss. His ego was also somewhat shattered when he noticed that she was holding him in her arms, whispering, what he thought, words of encouragement. Embarrassing, yes; wishing she would stop, no.

Really, what she was saying went somewhat along the lines of this:

"You idiot. You really think that we could escape the SPs when they knew exactly where we were at any given time? If you think I'm gonna help you with this little plan to get living rock back, you are gonna understand I'm the more clever one. Or else I will kick you ass. Just because you're a guy doesn't mean that you have all the power."

As much as he hated to stop this, he had to interrupt as a nagging thought crept back into his head.

"Um, Scara, I still have to take out _your_ chip," _Besides, I wouldn't want that pervert interrupting us._

Scara looked up, wondering why she hadn't thought of this. _I'm the more clever one._ These words came back into her mind, realizing that _she_ hadn't been thinking. It was Gazz. Gazz was looking out for her.

"Okay. Umm...well, use this piece of glass, and the chip should be right about here," she was pointing to a spot on her upper neck, the same place that she removed Gazz's chip. "Yeah, right here, I can feel it."

Slowly but skilfully, Gazz cut through her skin. Since he was facing her back, he couldn't see the pained expression on her face. If he had, though, he would've been too shocked to continue. Too scared with the fear of hurting her.

Soon enough, it was over and Gazz was the one holding Scaramouche. Except he wasn't talking like she was. They were sitting in the back of the van, on some sort of mattress. It must've been only 5°C in there. **(A/N: Sorry, I can't do Fahrenheit.)**

"Gazz?" Scaramouche broke the silence, looking into his eyes. "You _do_ realize we're the only ones left? The rest of the Bohemians are dead. Gone. Or at least brain-washed. How're we gonna do this on our own? I mean, really, we're practically kids. We can't defeat Globalsoft by ourselves. Eventually they'll get us, and when the do..." She didn't continue. They both knew what would happen.

"W-well, at least no-one could say we didn't try. I know that sounds stupid, but at least we'd know that we tried," _Yeah, I think she gets it now. Move on. You know what you REALLY want to say._ "But, I don't know...I feel that we can do this. I mean, this is the first time that I don't completely hate myself. I-I've found something to live for..." His voice trailed off, and he looked out the broken windows, as if he expected Khashoggi and his crew to be closing in on them. After all, Scara only turned the chips off. She didn't completely break them. What if the still worked? What if--

"The dream?" Scara brought him out of his "What ifs?" with sarcasm and eye rolling. It never ceased to amaze him how quickly she could change moods.

"No," _Go on, say it, what's the worst that could happen? _"No," he repeated, looking into her eyes. "You."

That three-letter word changed the rest of their lives.

Scaramouche paled considerably. She had always been quite pale before, but now, well...she would've been able to wilt a box of Kleenex.

"I love you Scaramouche." _Why hasn't she said anything? And why, might I ask, is she looking at my hair? And my arms? What if she sees my wrists?_

"I love you too, Gazza."


	8. Chapter 8

**This chapter is in Scara's POV, starts from the "I've found something to live for" line, and leads into "Who Wants to Live Forever".**

Who Dares To Love Forever?

"I-I've found something to live for..." Gazz trailed off, looking into my eyes. God, how many times have I heard about his whole mission to save the world with his dreams? I mean, really, how can a few song lyrics defeat Globalsoft, a worldwide, fascist, ran-by-pigs company with laser beams? As much as I love Gazz, I don't see how he's gonna defeat them.

Wait. Did I just say that I love Gazz! No. No way. But if I thought that I did out of nowhere...do I? I mean, _maybe_ I do, but...well, I've known him for a day. But there's something about him...I mean, what about that time in the tunnel? Sure, I wanted someone to love me, but don't we all? Just because I felt better when he was holding me--okay, had his arm around me--doesn't mean anything. Who am I kidding?

"The dream?" Stupid question, obviously that's what he's talking about. It's not like he's thinking about, oh, I don't know...something partly sane, for once.

"No," he seemed to be reading my thoughts. "No..." What is it with this guy and waiting to say things? Spit it out, I haven't got all day...oh wait, I do. "You."

Oh. My. God. No fucking way. No-one has ever cared about me. Not my parents, not my brother. They were the ones who turned me into Khashoggi, and they've known me for seventeen years. Gazz just met me, what, yesterday? And know he said that I make him live? _Ooh, you make me live._ Umm, what was that? Don't tell me I'm turning into him. Please no.

"I-I love you Scaramouche," I guess some people never lose their stutter...but I'm off topic. Holy shit. _Caring_ about me is one thing...but _loving_ me? And didn't I just admit to myself that I loved him, not two minutes ago? I felt my eyes wander. His hair. Damn, he had nice hair. Soft brown, hanging into his eyes--his eyes weren't that bad either--pretty sexy. And--bloody hell--his arms. How does a quiet weakling like Gazz get such muscles? I couldn't control myself anymore. Besides, he was probably wondering why I was staring at him.

"I love you too, Gazza," See? That wasn't too hard. I think I could get used to it. If I had to, I mean. It's not like we're suddenly engaged or going out, or--

I found someone that loves me. Someone that understands me. Someone that was my other half. Sure, he's a self-confessed nutter. But what do I care?

"Now that I have your love, dying doesn't really matter anymore," Oh no. Not another one of his speeches about saving the world. Honestly, when we were at the Heartbreak, he didn't talk about anything else. I really don't think I'm up for some kind of speech again. Ever. I had to stop him.

"Gazz, I know you're still obsessed with saving everyone from Globalsoft, but do you really want it to spoil the moment?" I didn't add that that was never going to happen. Two seventeen-year-olds defeating Globalsoft. Yeah, right. When pigs--referring to Globalsoft, of course--fly. But still...there was a voice in the back of my head telling me that _maybe_ it wasn't that impossible...if the Bohemians escaped...

"Um, that actually wasn't quite where I was going." Whoa. Big surprise. And, for the record, that wasn't a sarcastic thought.

"Okay then, where were you going?" I could see the tips of his ears turn red. I love making people feel uncomfortable. Love it, love it, love it. But I admit, I wanted to know where he was going with that. I _really_ wanted to know what he meant. Not only was it confusing, since he just proved he _did_ think of other things than his dreams, but I could find out more about him. My mind was starting to wander. I found myself looking at his mouth. The shape of his top lip was adorable. It reminded me of a bow, or maybe a heart. It looked strong--like his arms--but soft at the same time. I was thinking how it would feel against my mouth, my neck...damn. I love this guy.

"I was _going_ to say...um, I mean, that was just a line from a song that came into my head?" It is so easy to tell when he's lying. He talks as if it's a question. But still, even though I had a pretty good idea what he was saying, I wanted to know exactly what was going on inside that dysfunctional mind of his. Oh, I guess I was right (surprise, surprise) about what he meant. I realized his hand was holding mine, fingers intertwined.

I felt trapped. I'm not sure why, it's not like I don't trust Gazz or anything, but I needed to get up. Walk around. Move. Do something. I couldn't stay sitting on that mattress any longer or else I'd burst. I got out of the van and walked over to a tree. I don't know why, but I had a sudden urge to go near a tree. Yes, a tree. Does going out with a madman make _you_ slightly mad? Maybe I should ask him. Nah, he could take it the wrong way.

Gazz was following me as I sat down at the base of a tree, looking over some cliff or mountain. I couldn't tell; I was always asleep during Geography. But enough about me.

He came up behind me, as I said before. Not quite what I was intending, but I was in no hurry to get rid of him. It was cold, and he was warm. Again, I couldn't stay there long. I needed to get away, go somewhere. Only thing was, I didn't know where or why. I also didn't know why Gazz kept following me. Okay, I guess he didn't have anything else better to do, or anyone else to bug. But if he wasn't going to help me in any way, I didn't want him following me.

Yes, I did.

I don't know what's wrong with me. It's like I--oh I don't know. I can't quite put it into words, but I felt smothered. Not by any_one_ (considering it was just me and Gazz), but by the world. Like someone was draining all of the air out of the world, and the only way to keep breathing was to keep moving. Keep doing something. Keep my mind off of things. _Keep passing the open windows..._Bloody hell. I'm turning into Gazz.

Having nowhere else to go, I went back into the van. Sitting on the mattress once again, I could see what Gazz meant about hearing random words popping into his head. I started to sing (what is it with me lately? I _never_ used to sing).

_There's no time for us,_

_There's no place for us._

_What is this thing that builds our dreams_

_Yet slips away from us?_

Gazz was looking at me oddly. Like _I_ was the nutter now. I guess in a way I was--I mean, here I was, sitting in the back of a van _singing_. Of all things, _singing._ Oh, Gazz has started too. What am I, the female Dreamer?

_Who wants to live forever?_

_Who wants to live forever?_

He came and plopped down next to me, holding my hand. Leaning closer (or was I going to him?), he kissed me. We leaned back on to the (hard, uncomfortable) mattress and started to--you know, I'll shut up now.


End file.
